


I’m So In Love, I Practically Shit Glitter

by tourdefierce



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, Crack, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourdefierce/pseuds/tourdefierce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a bad day… and like everything he experiences, he involves Bones and ridiculousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m So In Love, I Practically Shit Glitter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparkysparky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkysparky/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta madeyemax. Written for happy_trekmas.
> 
> Originally posted to LJ: January 6th, 2010.

"Chekov, can I get a damage report?"

"Minimal. Looks to be confined to decks nine, ten and seven, Keptain."

Jim looks around before gesturing wildly with his hands. He's feeling a bit on edge today.

"Anyone wanna tell me why an unmanned vessel just opened fire on my peaceful fucking ship?"

Jim's left eye twitches.

"Ship is still abandoned," Sulu says as his fingers tap away at the panel.

Chekov looks a bit scared or he's trying not to giggle; sometimes it's hard for Jim to tell. Usually Jim takes it upon himself to make the kid lean more to the giggling side. Today, he just wants some damn answers.

"It seems as if some of its defense sensory equipment is still active and malfunctioning too much to fire at any object larger than a probe," Chekov squeaks.

"Can we just blast the thing out of the sky? IT FIRED ON ME FOR NO REASON."

Jim jumps when Spock just appears by his side, hands clasped behind his back. The Vulcan just doesn't know how to stay at his station. Instead, he spends the entire time on the bridge sneaking up on the captain. Jim is onto him and his sneaky, sneaky Vulcan ways.

"Captain, if I may?"

"What?"

"It is illogical for you to take offense at the abandoned ship's malfunctions. It was not a personal attack on you or your captaincy."

"Spock..."

Chekov squeaks. Jim spins his chair around and squints at the pair of helmsman who are whispering rather loudly. Chekov is making small but twitchy hand gestures. Jim has found, in his limited experience with the small vodka-gulping genius, that Chekov's squeaking usually means he knows something that is going to piss Jim or Bones off. It has been mostly Bones so far. Jim hasn't had anything to worry about. It's only two months into their mission. He hasn't even gotten a chance to fire his phaser yet, so the most his days have consisted of has been pissing Bones off. Not so much today. Yet.

"Oh give it a rest, Sulu. Chekov is going to tell me what you two are yapping about anyway! And would you destroy that damn thing already? IT FIRED AT MY SHIP, if you haven't forgotten."

Jim uses his swiveling chair to support his point. He also narrows his eyes for effect. What he really needs is a good dose of Bones' lurking! Every time Bones is lurking on the bridge everyone pays extra attention and does whatever Jim wants them to. Bones has presence. Or the bridge crew are just afraid he'll go hysterical after looking at the view screen for too long and kill everyone with a plague of epic proportions. Jim kind of thinks this would be hot, but it's not something he says aloud. Although, sometimes Uhura gives him this _look_ like she can read his mind, and wants to eat it for dinner, and that she knows that he fantasizes about Bones in his skivvies when the bridge is particularly boring.

"Keptain." Chekov interrupts Jim's Bonesy thoughts (pun totally intended). Jim laughs a bit hysterically at his joke, but tries to frown at the curly-haired nuisance all the while. "When I said minimal damage I simply meant that it was _concentrated_."

Jim is not fooled by the cute way Chekov says con-seen-tray-ted. The boy is full of sass. And Jim has the sneaky suspicion that it is all Sulu's fault. It certainly wouldn't surprise him. Sulu has always had a thing for little boys - Jim thought he once caught him reading _Lolita_ with a little too much fascination, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe it's the fencing, drawing young innocent ensigns away from the comfort of mother Russia into the den of sin.

Jim looks around, mentally checking to see if anyone has heard his thoughts. Shit like that happens though. Jim is sure of it. It's _SPACE_. Disease and danger and all that rot... oh no -

"Please tell me it wasn't Engineering or Sickbay because I'm not really up to dealing with drunks today."

Chekov shakes his head and then bites his lip. Jim scowls. Chekov and Sulu trade a look.

"Keptain -"

"What Ensign Chekov is attempting to express without aggravating your human emotions -"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Spock! IT FIRED ON MY BABY GIRL!"

"– is that the sporadic fire from the unmanned ship has set your quarters aflame and the resulting damage has rendered the space uninhabitable by all humans and many other non-Terran species."

Jim closes his eyes.

"Can I blow it up _now_?"

"Negative. May I request three days of further analysis into the ship's origins and further abandonment?"

"SPOCK!"

Jim fucking _knew_ it was going to be a bad day from the moment laundry told him his favorite underwear was still dirty. What's the point of being captain if you can't even exploit the laundry services?

<3<3<3

 

Jim stares at the doors to his quarters.

"Is that... smoke?"

"Odds are nae," Scotty replies with good humor, rocking a bit on his feet. Stupid, jolly Scotsman.

"Anytime you want to explain what is... oozing out of my quarters would be appropriate."

"I reckon it's foam."

Jim feels his eyes bulge and a tiny aneurysm explode at the base of his skull. "Foam?"

"Yea. See, when a fire breaks the main defense line in our beauty here, she sends a series of -"

A particularly large ooze makes Jim shutter and stomp away, leaving Scotty talking gleefully. His quarters are full of foam, and Scotty is happy because all his new systems are online and functioning properly.

Jim looks banefully at the ceiling of the turbolift. He needs a drink, a place where any type of happiness is against regulation, and some sympathy.

Well, two out of three wouldn't be so bad.

<3<3<3

Sickbay is quiet. Only the gentle hiss of the doors behind him kind of echo through the room, and Jim wonders if anyone has ever noticed how fucking creepy Sickbay is without groaning patients, busy doctors and utter chaos. Jim wonders if it makes everyone else as uncomfortable as it makes him.

"He's in his office, Captain."

Jim practically jumps at the appearance of Nurse Chapel. She only arches an eyebrow and goes back to sorting hypos. Jim suppresses a shudder and tries not to scurry away. But come on, she's just as scary as Bones except she has boobs of doom. And if you don't believe him, then ask Scotty. Boobs. Of. Doom.

Bones is hunched over his desk, stylus tucked between his lips as he stares down at his PADD with rapt fascination. Jim leans against the door jam and tries not to drool. But please, what he wouldn't give to be that PADD or that stylus because Bones is looking rather dashing today. Not that he doesn't look dashing all the time, but damn, not this kind of relaxed dashing that usually requires a certain degree of alcohol and which usually turns into drunk-dashing pretty quickly.

But not today. Today there is nothing too stressful for him (of course not, the captain's quarters are full of foam), so the lines on his face have faded a bit. Whatever he's reading isn't paperwork because the corner of his mouth twitches with interest every few moments, and Jim watches the careful, deliberate way Bones strokes the side of his PADD. It's like voyeurism for Jim. Seriously. Bones voyeurism has never been so good, at least as of late. Bones has been a bit grumpy. Ya know, the whole stuck in space for five years with a 17 year old and a ship-load of people that are just cause for madness and destruction and are giving Bones a heart attack and a drinking problem to boot.

Or ya know, just Jim.

"Booooones," Jim moans theatrically and pouts from his slouched position at the door. Jim can already feel the despair of his loss of quarters seeping in through the shock of foam. _Foam_.

Bones already has an eyebrow up as he looks at Jim. "What can you possibly want from me right now?"

Jim frowns, but is not deterred. He could think of many things he wants from Bones at all hours of the day (not to mention at night), but that's a secret. Plus, his life is ruined right now. He doesn't have time to be thinking about Bones' hands on him in very naked and delicious ways.

"You were absolutely and completely right," Jim says before dragging himself into the room and collapsing on the couch in a picture of dismay. He closes his eyes and listens to what he is sure are very chaotic heart palpitations.

"What about?"

"Space."

"If I don't say 'I told you so,' will you get out of my office?"

 Jim lolls his head towards Bones, who has taken to leaning forward, knees apart with his elbows resting gently on top of them. Jim tries not to stare at Bones' crotch. It's too much to ask of Jim right now. So he just tries not to drool.

"Not a chance, Bones. This is serious. Disease. Danger. DARKNESS," Jim says and wails a bit on the last word because seriously, where the hell is he going to sleep?

"What the hell is goin' on?"

 "My quarters are full of foam, Bones. Foam. And people -" Jim feels panic well up fast and loose, breath coming in huge gasps as he thinks about what a terrible omen it is that the first ship to fire on them is unmanned, that he didn't do anything to piss anyone off lately (except for Bones and Uhura, but they don't count) and what does that mean for the rest of the mission and oh dear god, he's going to die alone in his quarters suffocated by foam.

All he feels is the firm press of Bones' fingers on his jaw before the hiss of the hypospray fills his ears and blackness fill his vision.

<3<3<3

 "I'm dying," he says as soon as he gains control of his tongue, which takes him several tries, and there seems to be a good amount of his tongue on the outside of his mouth.

"Don't be such an infant," Bones says in that tone that says he's a little worried, but not enough to actually be kind. It would be comforting if Jim could actually open his eyes...

"Booooneeessssss," Jim whines as he flails. He doesn't manage to find any part of Bones to hit, but he does smack his hand against a machine that beeps wildly as if Jim has personally offended it. This is oddly satisfying.  
"You should be able to move your eyelids in a few minutes. Stop complaining."  
"This is serious. I blacked out. Whole moments of my life! I think I have a brain tumor. Maybe some sort of strange fever that will forever damage my eyesight, and I will be more like a pirate than a captain, cold and alone in space with no choice but to turn to a life of heaving bosoms and sodomy and maybe some swashbuckling with brandy and a sword thingy that -"

Bones slaps his face so hard that he has no choice but to turn his head, leaving his jugular exposed, and Bones rams a hypo so hard into his skin that Jim is pretty sure it's going to take up residence.

Residence...

"There. You should be fine. You had a mild panic attack... about foam. You insane and ridiculous man-child."

Jim blinks his eyes. The Sickbay swirls into existence and all Jim can think about is that the biobeds are really uncomfortable and he would hate to have to stay here tonight. Also, he is not ridiculous. Captain's are too handsome and charming to be ridiculous. But he figures Bones already knows this and is just playing dumb. Or hard to get. Jim really isn't sure which one.

"I don't want to stay overnight. Can I die somewhere else?"

 Bones comes into his vision like a very angry and eyebrow-ridden exclamation point. Jim's cock twitches in the confines of his trousers.

"You. Are. Not. Dying. Now stop complaining. I hit you with some vitamins and a mild muscle relaxer. You passed out all on your own, _Captain_."

Jim frowns at the sass. Always with the sass from Bones. Usually it's hot and sexy sass that involves Bones rolling his eyes in a way that makes him flex his neck muscles in a truly distracting way, or sass that includes Bones stomping away so that Jim can get a good look at sassy Bones' ass. But this sass? Just plain mean.

"Don't mock my captaincy. It's in a delicate state."

"Bite me."

Jim musters the energy up to control his facial muscles into a wink and a bit of a leer.

"Oh please, you naughty Southern gentleman, bring it on."

 "Get out of my Sickbay," Bones growls before he stomps away. Jim watches the way his hips just swing of their own accord and resists the urge to palm himself through his trousers since Nurse Chapel glares at him from across the room. Jim values his manly bits and he's not sure Nurse Chapel and her boobs of doom would value them as much as they deserve. He scurries out of Sickbay, waving to a couple ensigns getting their physicals and only making one or two lewd comments. But he thinks that's acceptable because he's really not having the best day- he’s off his game.

Once out of Sickbay and away from any tempting Bones might (unconsciously) throw his way, Jim heads to the bridge.

Why?

Not because it's his shift. Nooo.

Because the bridge crew needs to be harassed to keep up morale. It is one of the only things he's learned about the bridge crew so far that he actually enjoys. There, he can do the good work of teasing, poking, prodding, aggravating and generally trying to get Spock's facial expression to repeat this spasm thing that he's only seen once. Oh and thinking, because Jim is definitely going to need a place to take up residence.

Why?

FOAM IN HIS QUARTERS. BLASPHEMY OF THE HIGHEST ORDER.

The turbolift opens with a very satisfying swoosh.

<3<3<3

Jim manages to badger Spock into a frenzy. And by frenzy he means a slight flex of his left hand and a sharply raised eyebrow.

At 2100 his work on the bridge is done and he heads down a couple of decks.

After many hours of thinking, Jim has decided that although sleeping in Spock's quarters would probably give him the desired facial spasm that has been eluding him these past two months, Uhura would probably not take kindly to his manly bits. He thought about commandeering Ensign Andrews' quarters, but then he remembered he was captain and couldn't bless subordinates with his fantastic sexual prowess. So he then took a good hour to see who he _could_ legally sleep with. The list wasn't very promising.

Spock. (Only if he wore glitter.)

Uhura. (Only if she didn't harm him.)

Sulu. (Only if he admitted that he and Chekov were doing the dirty. And he brought his sword.)

Some guy in Engineering that smelled like cheese. (Never. Jim's not really a fan of cheesy sex.)

Scotty. (Only if there was gallons of booze involved.)

Nurse Chapel. (Three words: Boobs of Doom.)

And Bones.

See, the thing with Bones was quite complicated. There were times, usually when death was immanent (which hadn't happened since the Narada) that Bones got this look in his eye before Jim went off and did something noble (stupid) and imperative to save the world (unnecessarily violent, dumb and dangerous). There were usually some lingering glances and Bones would grip his wrist a little too long. There were times before that when Bones would be drunk and actually let Jim be affectionate without much grumping and there would be spooning in Bones' warm bed with his strong and capable arms pressed up against Jim. It had all spurred on Jim's delicate and foreign feelings that yes, he was madly and desperately in love with Bones.  
Problem?

Oh yes. Bones was grumpy about love. Ever since The Ex screwed everything up (something about clay, sex on a plantation and a wee bit of adultery, but Jim never got the full story), Bones has been a bit gun shy with anything longer than one night. Not that he really indulged in a lot of one night stands, but he did it every so often, in the Bones way where he always got to know them as much as possibly before he charmed them into bed with his sweet, low accent, strong doctor hands and dimples. Seeing him do this would have been useful in helping Jim strategize how he was going to get Bones into his bed (forever), but Jim never saw it. Bones would always go back to his conquest’s house and come in late the next morning, smelling freshly showered but still just as grumpy as when he left. At least Jim _smiled_ when he got laid. But noooo, Jim never got to see it and therefore such conquests were useless to his crusade.

 Oh and yes, it was by far a crusade at this point. Gaila had said so when Jim had accidentally yelled Bones' name in bed but it was an accident and it was only because the sex was really, really mind blowing, and mind blowing was exactly how he pictured sex with Bones. She hadn't minded. Why? Because Gaila is made of awesome, that's why. And she and Jim were on the same wavelength. Except she has an excuse; her pheromones are just a part of her. Jim? Well, he can't honestly help how sexy and amazing Bones is.  
He always told Bones that the reason Jim had given him the nickname was because on the shuttle to Starfleet Bones had said that all he had left was his bones. But the real reason is because Bones burrowed so deep inside of Jim, got to a place that no one has ever been before - so deep it was to the marrow of the bone. That and, well, after three days Jim had had a constant boner with Bones around. But really, what Bones doesn't know won't disturb him!

Besides, "love of my life with a drinking problem, perpetual five o'clock shadow, killer hands and instant-erection accent" was too long of a nickname. Even in Jim's head.

But back to the issue at hand.

Jim walks purposefully down the corridor. The lights are low and it's easy to just blend in to the soft bustle of the ship. He hasn't been pursuing Bones as vigorously as he was before, with casual innuendos and lewd comments that accompanied a distinct lack of clothing. But Gaila said that sometimes, slow and steady really did win the race (although her analogy had something to do with straight human women and pheromone secretion). So Jim is trying the slow thing, and he thinks it's working.

At least the almost kiss after their first official shift on the _Enterprise_ seemed to be a good indication. Key word being 'almost'. Bones had simply rested his forehead against Jim's, his breath even across Jim's lips for seconds that seemed to drag on into days before he whispered goodnight and fled the captain's quarters.

It had been bittersweet fantasy material for two months.

But now is the time. The trumpets are sounding. The horns are blowing. And James T. Kirk is hearing the call loud and clear.

What is the message?

Break into Bones' quarters and stay with him while repairs are being done in his own quarters (foam actually does a lot of damage; who knew?) and slowly wear Bones down enough for careful professions of love and lots and lots of hot sex.

Jim does not believe in no-win scenarios.

<3<3<3

His bags are already sitting at the foot of the bed when he gets into the room. The weight of the day, mostly just the slight hysteria of the _Enterprise_ being fired on for the first time since the Narada and for NO REASON, felt heavier now in the comfort of Bones' room. Not that Bones spent a ton of time in his quarters, because he was always in surgery or assisting (which actually meant waiting for someone to fuck up and glaring a lot) or just catching up on paper work in his office. There had been plenty of times that Jim had found Bones there, slumped over his desk with a PADD indenting patterns over his scruffy face. Bones would never admit to being adorable and Jim would never dream of saying the words 'adorable' and 'Bones' in the same sentence, but he _thought_ them, especially with Bones sleeping soundly in his office. Jim had asked once and in a surprising moment of sasslessness, and Jim does count the times without sarcasm and void of sass (and no death lurking around), where Bones had mentioned that towards the end of his marriage his office had been his safe haven. Where he had a large leather chair and could immerse himself in work. It also had the benefit of allowing Bones to avoid questions from Jo as to why her daddy was sleeping on the sofa as well.

The thought of Bones in his office all those years ago makes Jim want to march down to Sickbay and profess his love, on one knee, with bourbon! Instead, he carefully slips off his clothes and thinks about whether he feels like pushing his luck. Jim does not always leap before looking - in fact, Jim spends quite a bit of time looking but ends up leaping just as well. But this time, he knows that if he lays down on Bones' bed and then wakes up to Bones, broad shoulders and even longer legs, curled awkwardly on the coach, then Jim will have not only a heaping load of guilt for taking Bones' bed but rejection at the fact that Bones didn't just crawl in.

The sofa isn't too lumpy and the comforter in the closet is thick enough to sleep under without catching the death of pneumonia. So he strips his clothes off and folds them, only because it's impossible to tell what kind of mood Bones will be in when he gets off of shift and Bones hates clutter, and falls onto the couch. It only takes a few minutes of tossing and turning to get comfortable enough to sleep. He thinks about the softness of the comforter and the parallel to Bones' skin against his, his hand laying firmly and safely on Jim's belly as sleep creeps up on him and takes him away.  


<3<3<3

  
Jim is dreaming about an accident in laundry wherein holes have been cut in all the crew's uniforms right where their nipples are. Although this is an abnormal dream, it does seem relevant to the fact that Jim has been wondering as of late if his nipples are a weird shape. For some reason, being able to see everyone else's nipples would make him feel better, even if it turns out that he does, indeed, have awkwardly shaped nipples.

Anyway, he's dreaming of walking onto the bridge and everyone turning around - when everything stills and someone is saying his name, and the accident in laundry to satisfy his nipple self-consciousness is jerked away from him. He tries to clutch to the rapidly deteriorating dream but to no avail, as he is quickly pulled awake by Bones saying his name and squeezing his wrist. He's not all the way conscious but he's pretty sure that Bones' squeezing his wrist like that is most certainly very, very sexy.

"Jim, come on darlin'."

"Bones?" Jim blinks himself awake and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. It feels like he's been asleep for only a few minutes and his eyes burn in the lights.

"Sorry," Bones pauses and takes the lights down to ten percent. Jim promptly rolls over and falls onto the floor. It's hard and uncomfortable and he's pretty damn sure that Bones' boot is wedged up beneath his sternum. He's also cold;his blanket didn't join him on the floor.

"Kid, come to bed. It's just plain stupid for you to be on the couch," Bones says and Jim feels the warmth of Bones' hand on his biceps as he hauls Jim up against him. Jim blinks and swallows what he hopes is just carpet fuzz.

"Yeah, mmkay, Bonesy."

"Don't make me regret this," Bones sasses right back but it doesn't have any heart to it and Jim feels sleepy all over again with the warmth of Bones' hand guiding him to the bed and practically tucking him in with sure, doctor fingers and that Southern drawl that is practically murmuring Jim to sleep again. He barely has enough energy to grab at Bones' pant legs as he heads away from the bed, not towards it.

"Where's you goin'? Stay," Jim mumbles out but Bones shushes him.

"I'm going to the bathroom, you infant. I'll be right back."

The back talk just makes Jim smile, sleepy and contently warm against the cool, crispness of Bones' sheets. If he wasn't so damn tired he'd think about how much he's wanted to be in Bones' bed and that the smell of Bones all over the pillow case was as effective at causing an instant boner as the way Bones said "darlin'" was. Instead, he just turns his head and nuzzles into the pillow until he's spread out, spilling over his "side" of the bed and invading what he hopes will be the space that Bones fills. Jim listens to Bones go through his nightly routine, not that he knows for sure that it's Bones' routine but it's a routine that Bones would have; going to the restroom and folding all his clothes and making sure the computer had his schedule right and getting a glass of water and all the other things that Jim imagines that Bones is doing as he putters around the quarters with quiet but intent movements. It's soothing and Jim's pretty sure he falls into a light sleep because it seems like only seconds before the bed is dipping and there are cold feet pressing into his calves.

"Damnit, Jim," Bones growls in this really sexy whisper-yell that causes Jim to moan and move closer to the heat of Bones' body. The cold feet can be forgiven, at least for the first night because yeah, Bones is grumbling and pushing and pulling and generally just dominating Jim into a position that isn't as comfortable as the first one but it's kind of turning him on so he just lets Bones do his thing until they are both on their respective sides. Jim smiles into his pillow. There is no way his body isn't going to take advantage of pajama-clad Bones right next to him. Even in his sleep, Jim doesn't believe in letting opportunities slip by.

"Night," Jim slurs into the pillow as he reaches a hand over and lays it atop of Bones' chest.

"G'night, Jim."

The reply is quiet and soft in a way that makes Jim want to open his eyes and find out what Bones means but Bones just pats his hand and Jim takes a deep breath. Bones removes his hand from Jim's but he doesn't move Jim's hand from his chest.

If Jim is still enough, he thinks he can feel the steady beat of Bones' heart.

<3<3<3

Jim doesn't wake suddenly. He never has and he probably never will. It's something that annoys Spock when he has to wake Jim up for captainly things, and the habit of needing a good fifteen minutes to wake up will probably be lost to his captaincy after one too many urgent Federation message or red alerts. He knows this but the fact remains that right now, he still needs a good while to truly be awake enough to actually get out of bed. It's something that has helped Jim out of a dozen situations, it lets him think a bit and lets his brain reboot and recount. It was particularly helpful back at the academy when he would forget his bed mate's name and use the time before he was fully conscious to retrace the night's steps and find someway to remember his or her name.

Right now, he's absorbing many facts.

1\. He's in Bones bed. In. His. Bed. Please, angels in heaven commence the trumpet playing and general hallelujah singing.

2\. Bones didn't steal the covers in the middle of the night.

3\. Bones' feet warmed up.

4\. The reason why number three is known is because Bones is pressed tight against Jim's back, his arm wrapped tightly around Jim's bare stomach and their legs intertwined.

5\. Bones is breathing on the back of his neck in little puffs that are intensely adorable and incredibly arousing.

6\. Did he mention that he was IN Bones' bed? Right.

7\. Bones had come to bed without a shirt and the heat of his skin was beyond exquisite. Seriously. Jim could practically die and be pretty happy (except for that whole foam thing).

8\. There was something digging into the curve of his ass that certainly didn't feel like a hypospray (although Jim will totally admit to not being surprised if Bones slept with a hypospray in his pocket just in case space's disease and darkness snuck up on him in his sleep).

It's hard to tell if Bones is asleep, although Jim has a pretty good idea that he is because his breath is even but Bones surprises him more often than not. Well, he's predictable in the Bones-is-a-grumpy-Southern-doctor sort of way but some of Bones' nuances totally throw Jim for a loop, such as the way he throws his clothes everywhere after a long day instead of folding them or the way that he seems obsessed with keeping his hands hydrated, constantly rubbing lotion on them (which really does wonders for Jim's fantasies) or how he video records himself every single morning eating breakfast so that Joanna can watch it before she goes to bed at night and how for every one of her birthdays he writes her a letter, a real letter with old school ink and everything. Bones amazes Jim. And Jim has a small inclination that maybe, just maybe, he amazes Bones just a little bit too.

Or it could just be the morning. Morning does this.

So Jim inclines to find out. He stretches his spine, moaning a little at the way it feels to be so pressed against Bones from top to bottom and the way his spine arches and presses into the solid force of Bones' hip and the impressive erection that seems particularly interested in Jim. Jim can barely keep the smile off of his face when he feels Bones' breath hitch against the back of his neck, practically a gasp in the stillness of the room. The arm thrown around Jim's waist tightens and Jim feigns sleep, if only to observe Bones' reaction to their situation. He doesn't want to push. As much as Jim likes to think there is something there, in between the violent hyposprays and epic bromance between them, he doesn't want to ruin anything. He will never settle for loosing Bones just because he, Jim, got too selfish and took what might not be his to take. He's not stupid. He knows exactly what Bones is to him and what they mean to each other in the sense that they were both lost before they found Starfleet and each other. So he's testing the waters.

He sighs and pushes back into Bones, tangling their legs together even more and pressing his feet to the soft flannel of Bones' sleep pants. Bones moans in response and it takes pretty much everything in Jim's control not to giggle. Mostly because awesome starship captains do not giggle, also because he doesn't think Bones would take too kindly to Jim being giddy at being molested in his sleep by his CMO. But Bones is grumpy and he takes the fun out of most things. However, Jim was really trying to play Bones out and feel out the stakes they were playing with.

Because from where he is laying, the stakes are pretty big, if you catch his drift.

Jim twists his body again, pressing pulling against Bones until he feels a tiny, miniscule twitch of Bones' hips which, if you squinted and turned your head, could be construed as a thrust. Jim smiles in his sleep but contains his pure glee because he's supposed to be sleeping and if he wakes up and Bones gets all embarrassed then it all could be ruined. Instead Jim stays still, until Bones makes this purely debauched noise that is a cross between growl and choked out moan. It's the hottest thing Jim has ever heard in his entire life.

"Damnit, Jim." The words are whispered into his neck before the bed shifts and the warm, welcome weight of Bones and all his fabulous parts are gone, rushed off to the bathroom with a quiet swoosh of the doors. Jim groans in response and grinds his erection into the bed. He wants so desperately to take care of it but to no avail; Bones doesn't take very long showers and Jim is pretty sure that Bones has to be in Sickbay in less than thirty minutes, so he can wait.

Jim doesn't smirk at being able to jerk off to Bones' pillow. Not at all.

<3<3<3

Jim is skipping and he doesn't care if Spock is confused as fuck or pissed off or whatever it means when he raises his eyebrow and asks him seven or eight times if he needs to go to the medical bay or if he is intoxicated. Chekov and Sulu look suspiciously knowledgeable but Jim ignores them. He will not let them ruin his day. Uhura looks pissed off at him as usually, only more irritated because he's skipping and sometimes he's whistling and for a while there he thought about doing a jig and then singing some disco music from the 21st century (Because who doesn't love Lady Gaga when in love with sexy doctors?).

Today is Jim's day of jubilee.

When he's on his break, he asks the replicator to give him the finest muffins and bagels in all the land. It spits out wheat grass and some Andorian Jell-O-like substance. He spends the rest of his shift plotting how he to get around the whole confessing his profuse love to Bones thing, because that would be really embarrassing and not really something he's interested in doing just yet. He just wants to skip to the sex and the cuddling and maybe the moving in.

When he tells the bridge crew that he drinks from the keg of glory, Sulu gives him a thumbs up and Spock calls Sickbay.

It's awesome sauce.

<3<3<3

"Sit your ass down, boy. We need to talk."

Jim looks up as he gets assaulted by a myriad of things at the same time. First off, Bones seems pretty pissed and he's sprawled out on his couch looking like a sex god in yummy denim and flannel. Second, he's drinking bourbon and Jim loves the smell when it's mixed with Bones. Third, he has a feeling that Bones is totally going to ruin his day of jubilee and that just isn't right... damnit. Fourth - did he mention the utter sex that Bones is oozing from his pissed off pores? Right.

"Why yes, Bones, I had a fabulous day. No one fired on my ship -"

"Sit down," Bones growls and Jim has to adjust his pants as he frowns and moves over to sit in the chair adjacent to the sofa, which, by the way, is not as comfy as Bones' sofa or his bed. Jim has the strange urge to send out a ship-wide announcement that states that yes, he knows how comfy Bones' bed is. He resists.

"What's up, Bonesy?" Jim goes for innocent. He honestly has no idea what Bones is talking about but Bones has his I'm-not-sure-if-I'm-really-pissed-at-you-yet face on and Jim doesn't want that one to change to a worse face, like I'm-transferring-away-from-this-godforsaken-ship-and-you face or his I'm-so-disappointed-face. Both of those are equally devastating.

Bones points a long finger at him. "First, don't go callin' me Bonesy. It's ridiculous. I'm a doctor not a stuffed toy."

Jim opens his mouth to point out that Bones is indeed a big, soft, teddy bear... or a woobie but closes his mouth when Bones arches an eyebrow so sharply that Jim thinks it might have actually cut the tension that seems to be mounting the room. Wait, what? Jim frowns. He's starting to think that this might be something serious and that tends to worry him.

"Bones, what's wrong?"

"Damnit, Jim," he curses and shakes his head. Jim watches, head tilted, as Bones finishes his drink and pours himself another. He looks back up from his glass and his face is unrecognizable, set in stoney resolve and mixed with something that Jim can't really define and it worries him.

"Bones..."

"You can't stay here."

Jim raises his eyebrows. What?

"What?" Jim says aloud.

"You," Bones says with a bit of a flail to his arm. "You can't stay here while your quarters are being repaired. You need to find somewhere else."

It kind of hurts, not just because Bones is kicking him out - nay EVICTING him, but because Jim has this really awesome plan that involves arrows and flow charts and glitter that he totally won't get to use if Bones rejects him like he totally is right now. And it is rejection. It's the Bones rejection that entails rejecting him with something mundane but trying to communicate something completely different.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't stay on my side of the bed, but it was kind of cold last night and come on now, it'll be like old times back at the Academy," Jim pleads, and he winks just for good measure. Bones frowns even more and purses his lips in that way he does when he scolds Joanna on the video comm or when he has to write patients' families when they die on his operating table.

"No. I'm not going through that again, even if it's only for a few days. There are plenty of warm beds out there, Jim. Don't mess around with me on this, I'm not a toy."

Jim is confused. And it makes his head hurt when Bones speaks in riddles. Jim is a captain, _not a mind reader_.

"Bones, what are you talking about?"

Bones pulls the glass up to his lips but doesn't take a sip, instead he just stares, those big hazel eyes boring holes into Jim like he's trying to puzzle him out with just his mind, as if he can read Jim like he's a list of symptoms, determined to make a diagnoses. Jim is desperately trying not to let the diagnosis be "hopelessly devoted to being a hot mess whenever you are around because I love, love, love you."

"I'm talking about you yanking me around, Jim. I won't let it happen. You know that this -" Bones pauses, looking frustrated. "What I mean to say is, this morning - look, you can't sleep here. Alright?"  
"This morning? Bones, you're starting to freak me out."

"Don't get all concerned on me. You're the one running around the ship like I'm your latest fucking conquest and I'm not, damnit. I'm not your conquest and I'm never gonna be another notch on your bedpost. And now the whole ship is givin' me hell."

It stings. He's not sure what Bones is talking about but it all stings. How could Bones ever think anything like that?

"Bones -"

"Don't borrow trouble Jim. Don't start something you know you honestly can't finish," Bones says in this defeated tone that has Jim's mind whirling and his heart hammering in his chest. He's pretty sure he and Bones are having this colossal misunderstanding but before he can wrap his brain around what and why, Bones is up off the sofa and grumbling into the other room.

Jim is right behind him.

"Bones. It's not like that. It would never be like that."

And this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Because there are going to be feelings talked about and all sorts of shit that Jim actually fucks up. It's not that he doesn't want to talk about it but whenever he does talk about serious things, shit hits the fan. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. Bones is in the bathroom, the door is open and Jim can see him standing in front of the mirror. He gets as close as he dares, Bones' tense body his entire focus.

"Of course you would make this hard, Bones. I've been trying really damn hard and then this seemed like such a good opportunity but I wasn't sure. We've been so busy for so long and I feel like maybe this is our chance but I didn't know and before... I dunno. Bones, it would never be like that. Not with you. Not about this." He trails off because he knows he's not saying the right thing but hell, he doesn't know what the right thing is, for fuck's sake.

"I don't want to mess this up. I'm trying really damn hard. Hell, I had a plan. It was going to involve years, I was gonna draw up some of those flow charts you like so much and Spock was going to help and I think Chekov was going to bribe you," Jim laughs in nervous and slightly wistful hopelessness. "I don't know how to do this, Bones. You've got me by my balls here."

Jim shakes his head. He can charm the pants off of women and men in bars, he can convince admirals to give him whole starships but talking about _this_ with Bones makes him feel like he's forgotten how to speak and he's relearning to connect his brain to his mouth... rerouted through his heart.

The tension in Bones' shoulders is still there but when Jim chances a glance at Bones' face in the mirror, the frown is gone only to be replaced by something like curiosity. Jim doesn't break their eye contact and the intensity of Bones' gaze sends shivers to resonate in Jim's spine.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Bones asks.

Jim closes his eyes at the gruff sound of Bones' voice, as if he hasn't used it in a long time.

"There was no time. I was a little busy."

"Saving the world?"

"Something like that," Jim says and it feels like the air has been swept back into the room. He opens his eyes and Bones' head is tilted to the side. Jim takes a step closer to him.

"And before?"

Jim laughs. "I was scared or maybe I didn't know. This isn't normal for me, not something I'm really used to. I'm not you, I don't love like you do. Not usually. Not like this."

There. It's out there now and there really is no taking it back, no 'Hey, Bones! Just kidding about all that stuff, want to get a beer?' It's the end of the rope and Jim leans forward until his nose is pressed into the back of Bones' neck, his forehead resting at the base of Bones' skull. The soft brown hairs there tickle his skin but he doesn't move because this could be it. This could be the end game where Bones says no and they go back to ignoring and pressing but not pulling until it's gone, lost in the silence of space.

"You're such a fool," Bones whispers affectionately. Jim doesn't move.

"I know," he replies and he feels overwhelmed, like maybe he can't live like this, forever in limbo.

And suddenly he doesn't have to. He tries to take it all in but it happens so fast because suddenly he's pressed against the door jam and Bones is there, pressed against him from toe to chest to forehead and everything is so intense like Bones is actually trying to crawl inside of him. All he can do is gasp at the quiet stillness that Bones has and he's just holding him there and it feels like a different kind of limbo, one where Bones holds all the cards and is constantly throwing them up in the air to make Jim even more confused as to what game they are even playing.

"Bones," he tries to whisper but it comes out as this whimper-hiss hybrid that has Jim flushing with embarrassment and Bones pressing their lips together.

It's chaste, just the soft, dry press of Bones' lips to Jim's, but it has Jim gripping Bones' arms and vowing to never, ever let go. And one kiss becomes two as Bones mouths against him, like he's whispering words of utter sanctity against Jim's lips, slipping them inside his mouth and keeping them there. Jim tries to pull Bones closer, pulling and reaching until Bones almost loses his balance and has to take a step forward, his thigh in between Jim's legs, and it changes everything. Chaste is gone with a groan from Jim and a gasp from Bones that leaves their lips apart for a few seconds and when they come back together Bones is sweeping his way into Jim's mouth, pressing him tightly against the door jam and rocking his hips and thigh so tightly against Jim that Jim’s actually afraid he's going to come in his trousers. The kiss isn't at all violent but Bones is insistent, claiming his mouth with broad sweeps of his tongue and bold nips at his lips until Jim feels like Bones is actually fucking his mouth.

And just when Jim actually gets with the program and regains higher brain function and remembers that yes, he has hands that can touch and a tongue that can give as good as he's getting, Bones' mouth is gone, sucking a trail of kisses and bites along Jim's jaw.

"Bones," Jim gasps. "Bones, fuck, it's too fast."

But Bones doesn't stop, pause or yield, only uses his hands to tilt Jim's head and expose more of his neck for tasting. All Jim can do is moan, breathy and a bit pathetic, into the air and hold onto Bones' hair as he's devoured. He's worked one hand around to pull Bones' shirt up and the contact of Bones' actual skin against his own is enough to make Jim want more. Bones is laving at his collarbone and the area where his neck meets his shoulder and it feels so good that Jim bucks onto Bones' thigh which is pressed so tight to Jim's erection that Jim lets out a moan that would make porn sound tame.

Bones responds by sinking his teeth into Jim's shoulder and fucking rocking his world.

Jim realizes that yes, Bones is right; it's not too fast. Nothing could ever be too fucking fast. And now Jim is trying to pull both his and Bones' clothes off with minimal success because they keep having to stop to kiss, sloppy and with too much tongue. But they finally get at least Bones' shirt and undershirt off and Jim gets his gold tunic out of the way before he shoves Bones against the opposite jam of the door and drops to his knees.

"Damnit, Jim," Bones curses but it's in a completely different tone that Jim wants to hear again and again. It's all sweet tea and Georgia peaches and how Bones could have not made that sound in Jim's presence before now seems like a crime.

Jim struggles with the fastenings on Bones' jeans for a bit, mostly because he's too distracted mouthing Bones' cock through the material but also because Bones has, like, six buttons on his jeans and it's really hot but hard to get undone. Eventually, he's pulled both the jeans and the briefs down to Bones' ankle. Bones kicks them away and Jim smiles as they land halfway across the room. Then he gets distracted by something completely different.

"Jim?" Bones tugs at his hair and Jim slowly raises his eyes and tries not to drool. Bones is a picture of debauchery, his normally perfect hair is mussed beyond belief, his lips are swollen and pink and there's a pretty big hickey above his right nipple. Not to mention his cock is hard, leaking and fucking huge.

"Bones, why didn't you tell me you were hung like a horse?"

"Jim," Bones chastises and has the nerve to look bashful. Jim licks a long line from base to tip, sucking at the head and moaning. Bones bucks his hips and gasps.

"Seriously, I would have jumped your bones a long time ago if I'd known your cock was this big," Jim says as he licks and sucks at the base and places messy kisses along the underside. It's the biggest cock Jim has ever seen and Bones has the nerve to look embarrassed about it? For the love of God.

"Bones, I can't fit this in my mouth. There is no way," Jim teases before he sucks hard on the head, letting the salty taste of precome settle on his tongue. Bones growls and jerks his hips forward, forcing Jim to take more than the head in. He can't really get his mouth to take half of it so just takes a hand out to brace himself before laving his tongue on the underside and pulling off with a wet pop. Spit and come run down his chin and Jim palms himself in his too tight trousers. "But, I think there are some other places where we might get it to fit."

Bones pulls Jim to his feet and they're both off balance as they kiss, even messier and sloppier than before with Jim's tongue tasting of come and too much saliva but it doesn't stop Bones from delving in and claiming Jim's mouth again and again with rough swipes of his tongue until they are stumbling towards the bed and Bones is sucking on his tongue and Jim is trying desperately not to come in his pants. He has a funny feeling that trying not to come prematurely, like a fifteen year old boy, was going to be an issue he should just get used to with Bones around.

They finally make it over to the bed and Bones pushes Jim onto it with enough force to knock the wind out of Jim. Jim moans and arches his back as he lands with Bones right on top of him, both of them trying to get Jim out of his black pants and underwear and neither of them having a lot of success. Jim just stops trying and Bones laughs into his shoulders as he focuses on undoing the fastenings of Jim's trousers. Jim paints small, nipping kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. It doesn't really seem like enough.

"Fucking Starfleet regulation pants," Bones curses and Jim laughs as he kicks them off and wiggles out of his black briefs. The laughter breaks something in the air and Bones lifts his head to stare at Jim. If it was anyone else, Jim would say it was hesitation, but he knows it's something different. It's declaration and clarification and a confession all rolled into one.

"Trust you, Bones."

They kiss, more languid and soft but just as sloppy as they rut against each other. Jim tries his hardest to get to his hands on every fine piece of Bones' body he can, from the length of his fingers to the firm muscles in his ass. It's all fair game for Jim to pinch and lick and suck and kiss and he tries to do all those things and it feels like they're wrestling in bed until Bones pins him down and sucks at the bite mark he made earlier.

Jim keens.

"Christ, kid," Bones mumbles into his skin when Jim wraps both of his hands around their cocks and jerks them in a rough and uncoordinated rhythm. Bones doesn't help because he's trying to do something else that involves the drawers of his night stand. Jim is trying to get more friction and movement of Bones' thick cock against his body until Bones jerks away from him and Jim whines, high and protesting in his throat.

"Can it. I'm workin' here," Bones mumbles. Jim opens his eyes to see a tube of lube beside his head and Bones scooting down the bed to lift one of Jim's legs onto his shoulder. Jim complies, stretching his back and watching Bones watch him. It's the sexiest thing in the world. Their eyes never leave each other as Bones coats two fingers and pushes them both in so slow and hot that Jim curses and gasps. Bones' other hand is pressing nail prints into his thigh and Jim pushes back onto the two fingers until Bones is actually moving them, slow and twisting, barely grazing his prostate with never enough pressure to inspire anything but frustration.

"Hurry up," Jim hisses as he rolls a nipple between his fingers and watches as Bones' frowns at looks at him like he's petulant.

"Quiet. I'm not rushin' this, so you best get used to it." Bones' drawl is so thick that it practically melts into Jim's skin, all honey like, and it does not make him want to go slower, it makes him want to go faster, to get fucked and to get it done now.

"Bones," he whines and reaches to pull Bones' face down for a frantic and poorly executed kiss. Jim tries to fuck Bones' mouth but Bones bites hard on his bottom lip and pulls away just as he adds a third finger that presses just right on the upswing and has Jim moaning Bones' name like a whore.

Bones smirks like the smug bitch he is. When Jim says as much, he gets a cocked eyebrow and a hasty forth finger that has his arse burning with pleasure and pain that prickles and Jim has to reach down and still Bones' hand.

"God, Jim are you alright?" Bones' voice is full of concern and Jim immediately feels guilty.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. I was going to come," Jim gasps and hates himself for having to admit it because Bones looks smug. Jim doesn't remember sex with men being like this. Hell, he doesn't remember sex with anyone being like this. It's not like it's the best but it's so intense that Jim is amazed that any of it is real. Him and Bones. Goodness.

Jim releases Bones' wrist with a squeeze. Bones begins to slowly work his coated fingers in and out of Jim until he's so relaxed he's almost asleep, except for the teasing pressure on his prostate and the large amount of moaning he's doing. They kiss again and Bones pulls his fingers out and rearranges Jim's legs. He feels powerless against the force of Bones' coordination and grace, but he clutches at Bones' neck until he forces their foreheads together as Bones eases in.

"Breathe," Bones says and Jim tries but, Christ, he's so fucking full and Bones is so big that it burns like a mother fucker.

"Burns like a mother fucker," Jim says as he licks at Bones' lips and tries to breathe.

"Want me to stop?"

"God no, please don't." Jim takes a deep breath and tries to get the begging under control. Seriously. "Just - just go slow."

"Who would ever believe it, Captain James T. Kirk wants to take things _slow_."

Jim moans and bucks so hard he almost impales himself on Bones' cock. Bones steadies him with a wide palm on his hip and an arched eyebrow.

"Don't say captain when you're trying to get your huge cock inside of me, Bones. It's too much."  
Bones just laughs, pressing in so deep until Jim is panting. Finally, it seems like forever and Jim is plotting ten times the abuse on Bones for ever having such a large cock and for ever making Jim love him so much as to want it in his ass, but Bones is finally all the way inside.

"Holy shit."

"Jim," is the only response he gets from Bones, whose eyes are closed, and he's practically vibrating. Jim breathes, in and out until his body relaxes. He wiggles a bit and then kisses Bones, licking into his mouth with lazy tilts of his tongue. Jim moves his legs off of Bones' shoulders and wraps them tightly around his back, the small movement making both him and Bones moan. Bones opens his eyes and they kiss as Bones' hips move.

Their rhythm is a bit off, since they are pressed so close together, but Bones doesn't seem to mind. They rock slowly until Jim gets tired and just needs more, more of Bones inside of him than he ever thought possible.

"Harder, Bones. Come on," he moans and they make eye contact as Bones rearranges their limbs to put some distance between them before he pulls out, leaving just the tip of him inside, and Jim clenches until Bones curses and slams into him so hard he fucking moves up the bed with the force of it.  
After that, Jim can't really stop babbling.

It's mostly just 'yes' and 'oh god, fuck yes' but sometimes it's 'bonesbonesbonesbones' and 'so good, you bastard' and a dozen other things that have them both groaning into the heat of the room and each other's mouths. It doesn't take much before Jim can feel the familiar burn of his orgasm hurtling toward him at great speed.

"Bones," he warns as he ducks his head and sucks at a patch of skin by Bones' ear. He's pretty sure he's leaving a hickey and Bones is going to kill him for it but he's so insanely close.

"Can you come like this?"

And it's insane because Jim's never come without someone touching his cock but he's pretty sure with the friction from Bones' body pressed against him and the fact that Bones doesn't seem to be able to miss his prostate on any stroke, that yeah, he could probably come like this.

He doesn't get to tell Bones this because he's coming with two thrusts that ram right into his prostate and send Jim flying, hot bursts of come in between them and an orgasm so strong it fucking hurts. He's gasping and oh fuck, it's so good, babbling nonsense and moaning as Bones fucks him through it and Jim can barely get his eyes open when Bones' breath hitches and he comes with a growled 'Jim' and an open mouth.

Jim almost wants to come again on the spot from the sheer beauty of it.

Bones falls on top of him, still inside of him, and Jim can't stop sleep from coming. He fights to stay awake to at least tell Bones something, anything (like how fucking sore he's going to be for, like, WEEKS) but he's asleep before he has time to do anything but cling to Bones' heavy form.

<3<3<3Three Months Later<3<3<3

Jim puts down a large box and whimpers out of sheer sympathy for the pain in his back. When he is able to straighten up he glares at the figure standing in the door.

"Fuck, Bones where the hell did you put all these books in your other quarters?"

"Didn't," he says jovially and steps into the room with a considerably smaller box. Jim glares. "It was all in storage in Engineering but since your quarters are obviously larger than mine, I can bring them out."  
"I hate you."

"We both know that's not true," Bones replies as he walks over and rubs tiny circles into Jim lower back.  
Jim's body betrays his anger by melting into the thousand-book-hoarding bastard.

"Hmm, shut it," Jim mumbles as the pain ebbs and is replaced by the gravity of their situation. Bones. Moving in. With him. Jim grins like an idiot.

"What are you smiling about? Because I'm not letting you bully me into that stupid Santa suit. I already told you -"

Jim shuts him up with a kiss. Bones is flushed and looking at him in a way that makes Jim want to die with giddy, pathetic, happiness - like the only thing Bones needs in the entire world is him, like that could possibly be enough.

"Merry Christmas, Jim."

"Merry Christmas, Bones." They kiss again and Jim tries not to cling too much. Life is fucking awesome. They separate and Bones heads to one of the boxes and opens it up. Jim grins wickedly.

"Jim, tell me why there aren't books in this box but Christmas lights?"

"Because you, me and the rest of the senior officers are going to decorate the entire ship with lights, you know, as a gift to the crew on this cheery holiday season."  
Bones stills. Jim cocks a hip and smiles.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"Damnit, Jim!"


End file.
